by Kailin Gow
“You certainly know a lot about the city.” Mom was impressed.
“I’m curious and love digging up information revolving just about everything around me.”
After a quick run through of the history of the Japanese Tea Garden and the old windmill, Mom glanced at her watch. “Well, kids, it certainly has been a pleasure, but work beckons.” She extended her hand to Asher. “You're a delightful tour guide. I hope to see you again.”
“Have a nice afternoon, Mrs. Collins.”
“See you at dinner, dear.” She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and was off.
Watching her walk away, a wistful smile came to Asher. “You have a great mother. Do you guys always get along so well?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” Taking up the footpath around Stow Lake, I felt a tinge of guilt for the great parents I had. “Thanks for being so great with her. It’s not every guy who’ll tolerate hanging out with a parent, much less talk so much with them.”
“It was really a pleasure. I have all this knowledge inside my head… might as well share it.”
“Funny,” I said as I glanced at him. “Brax said you were the school bad boy.”
“Did he now?” He straightened his shoulders and tilted his chin up with pride. “I guess I deserve that title in a way. I do enjoy pushing the teachers’ buttons, I’m relentless in a debate and I’ve been known to have rather loud discussions about the school system in general with the director.”
“You also have an aversion to blue uniforms,” I reminded him.
He harrumphed. “Might as well scratch out our names and simply call us by a number. They want us to be automatons, clones of one another. Conform, follow, listen… don’t dare have a thought of your own, or heaven forbid, an opinion.” He looked away. “Yeah, my parents’ donation to Shadowlight, had its benefits. I get to choose my teachers, and I don’t have to wear a uniform. At least I could use Shadowlight’s biased towards the wealthy and influential families to my benefit. Like everywhere and everyone, Shadowlight, my dear Lux, could be bought.”
I playfully leaned into him, pushing his huge bulk off the graveled path. “Aren’t you exaggerating a bit? I mean, Shadowlight isn’t that bad.”
“Guess not, but there certainly is room for improvement. Too bad Braxton doesn’t have any influence on his uncle. If anything, he has to adhere to the rules and regulation more than anyone… set an example, you know. But he is one of the Beautiful Ones – Moore, Shayne, and Braxton. The head of the hierarchy at Shadowlight. They practically run the school with Shayne clearly the Queen.”
“I did notice how Brax walks the line.”
Asher sniffed the fragrant autumn air, his eyes taking in our surroundings. “So it’s Brax, huh? That guy certainly doesn’t waste time.”
“He’s a good friend.”
“Yeah, he does have that great capacity to be friendly. I guess he’s just not the type of friend I’d hang out with.”
“Really? Why?”
“Actually, it’s the company he keeps, namely Shayne and Moore.”
“The twins?”
“Yeah, don’t you find something odd about them, I mean aside from the obvious.”
“Oh, that they’re both drop-dead gorgeous, with flawless skin, perfect teeth, unbelievably captivating eyes and hair that would be the envy of just about everyone?”
“Let’s not forget that they’re also disgustingly charming and ridiculously rich.”
I was reluctant to point out just how charmed I’d been by Moore, and my friendship with Shayne had already blossomed into something I’d never expected, something I had never experienced before.
“Tell you the truth, aside from their enviable perfection, I don’t really see what’s wrong with them. It’s not their fault they were born looking so great. Their parents must have done something right to have raised such charming children, and they probably worked hard to give their kids all the creature comforts.”
“If that’s what you want to call a twenty two million dollar bay side mansion in Belvedere.”
“Eeks, really?”
He nodded slowly and deliberately.
“Still, we shouldn’t judge them on that.”
“I’m not so much judging as sensing.”
He had to be hallucinating. I had sensed absolutely nothing but divine attraction and passionate desire for Moore. Neither he nor his sister exuded anything remotely demonic or evil.
As the path snaked its way around the pond, it forked, and Asher took the path leading back to the nearby street.
“I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you a little better.” He stopped to face me.
The gentle breeze that had caressed us all afternoon gusted, sending a few loose strands of my hair into my face.
“I’ve never seen you with your hair down,” Asher said as he tucked the strand behind my ear. His eyes, filled with questions, locked onto mine while his lips parted.
I was suddenly filled with the sense of love and desire I’d felt so many times during those dark, dream-filled nights. Could he be the one I’d cried for so many times? He came closer and my lips parted, anticipating his touch.
He reached out to brush his hand over mine. “See you Monday,” he whispered into my ear before backing away. A flash of pain and regret crossed his eyes before he turned to walk away.
Chapter 7
“Do I really have to go to this thing?” I whined as Mom pinned my hair up.
“This thing is Mr. Kingsley’s way of welcoming your father to the faculty, and your father would be crushed if you didn’t attend.”
“You know how I am about these fancy parties filled with snooty people and their strange and paralyzing etiquette.”
“Learning a bit of etiquette never harmed anyone. Get in the game and play nice. It’s just for one night.” She patted the last strand into place. “There. Aren’t you gorgeous?”
I stood to take in the full effect. As requested, the updo wasn’t too severe or matronly. It was actually very pretty, with soft romantic wisps. I twisted and turned in front of the mirror, admiring the way the little deep blue mini-dress hugged my curves just right. The off the shoulder sleeves were elegant while the black leather gladiator sandals added just enough edge to the look.
The bejeweled crucifix at my throat was the perfect accessory.
“You’ve got legs like I wish,” Mom griped as she playfully slapped my exposed thigh on her way out. “And you're always hiding them in those jeans you insist on wearing all the time.”
I grinned, grabbed the little clutch Mom had loaned me and followed her down to the living room where Dad patiently waited.
Twenty minutes later we pulled into the Kingsley drive and parked among the Mercedes, BMWs, Porsches and Bentleys. Suddenly Dad’s prized sedan didn’t seem so impressive.
“I told you, Mom,” I whispered as we got out of the car and headed to the butler waiting at the door. “I hate all this snootiness.”
“You look stunning, honey. Make the best of it,” she whispered back as she slapped on the most elegant smile for the butler.
The two-story mansion was more and more imposing as we approached. Small octagonal turrets and ornamental pinnacles gave the façade fierce character while oriel windows, lit dimly from within, invited us to discover more.
The main vestibule was immense, the arched ceiling rising to the full height of its two stories. People milled about, catching offered flutes of champagne as they headed towards the back. We followed along, doing our best to act like we belonged.
After passing a small and secretive looking alcove, we came upon a grand marble staircase that led down to the main ballroom.
I gasped at the sheer size of the space.
“It’s built on a slope,” Dad explained. “It may look like a modest two-story mansion from the front, but in back, it’s a three level mammoth.”
Mom simply shook her head at the vulgarity of it all.
At the landing, the stairs forked a
nd Dad veered towards Kingsley and his cronies while Mom abandoned me to go chat with a small grouping of blue-haired ladies.
“Geez,” I hissed as I stood alone on my perch.
Everywhere I looked there were silks, satins, sequins and chiffons which sparkled and flowed beneath chunks of diamonds, emeralds and rubies, all reeking of excess riches. Men in perfect tuxedos, clean shaven with every hair in place walked about, their shoulders back, the grins plastic and their boredom barely concealed.
Make the best of it, I repeated to myself.
I looked around, taking in the over the top décor and vulgar excess. Everything in the house reeked of money; crystal chandeliers, extravagant vases and pieces of art worth more than enough to feed us all for a year. Yet, despite the refinement, beauty and excess, the home reeked of something unpleasant.
Finally finding the courage to walk down those steps, I turned to find Braxton walking up. His face lit up the moment he saw me, his undisguised appreciation heating his gaze.
“Lux?” he said, tilting his head in disbelief. Taking the last step to meet me on the landing, he took in the length of me. “Is that really you all gussied up?”
“Stop rubbing it in,” I said. “I hate dressing up.”
“That may be so, but dressing up certainly doesn’t hate you. You are divine.” His eyes devoured me from head to toe before stopping at my lips, which I had started biting. “And so hot, it’s beginning to hurt.” He stepped closer, and it was electric between us.
“And look at you,” I retorted, my voice husky. “Monkey suit and all.” I reached up to finger the collar of his immaculately white shirt, while he involuntarily inhaled. He stepped closer until I could feel his hardness against me. “Is that silk?”
He grinned. “Only the best will do for Uncle Kingsley’s parties. I have to admit I’m not very comfortable in a tux. Kind of suffocating, if you ask me.” He moved closer and whispered in my ear, his warm breath tickling them and sending a shiver up my spine filled with desire. “I have an idea. Why don’t we ditch these uncomfortable clothes, get naked, and explore each other’s bodies instead of exploring my house?”
I gulped at the mental image of seeing Brax naked and doing all kinds of wicked things to me and my body.
But we were at a party celebrating my father’s new job.
“Does your uncle throw one of these dull shindigs every time he hires someone new?”
“Not exactly. I guess your father really impressed him.”
I leaned back on the landing railing and shot a quick glance over my shoulder. “What is there to talk about with these cronies?”
“Nothing that would really interest you,” he said with a wink. He took my hand and led me down the steps. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”
A long passageway led to a small waiting room, followed by the steward’s room. We peeked into the scullery and larder, then poked our noses into the busy kitchen.
“My uncle has kept the house as authentic as when it was built in the 1840s.”
“Do you ever feel lost in such a big house?”
“Always.”
I was touched by the sadness in his eyes. Money certainly didn’t heal wounds; he was living proof of that.
“You must miss them.”
“The pain never seems to go away.” He stopped walking, took a deep breath and rubbed his index and thumb over his brow. “Rambling around in this cold and soulless mansion only reminds me how empty I feel.” He took my hands and kissed the back of them. “It would be nice to have someone with a tantalizingly hot body here to warm me up when I do feel cold and lonely.” Although he meant it as a joke, he looked so sad, I wanted to kiss him and tear off his tux so I could warm him up.
Again, I had to remind myself I was here for my father, and I couldn’t jeopardize embarrassing him in front of his new employer.
“How ‘bout we talk about something less painful, like that awful uniform we have to wear at school.”
He laughed and I was pleased to see humor return to his eyes as we continued down the hall.
“Despite everything, there are a few people I like hanging out with at Shadowlight. Granted they're far from the fun bunch I knew at my old school. Kicking around on the football field or just hanging out at the park, throwing a Frisbee or pitching a ball… you won’t ever catch the elite of San Fran occupying their time with such common activities.”
As we roamed the halls, he told me more about his parents and the good, fun memories that made him smile. He described his old house, small, cramped and in need of several repairs, but filled with enough love to make all the inconveniences of the old house unnoticeable.
He gave off such an air of refinement and aristocracy, it was hard to believe he came from such humble roots.
“My uncle does the best he can to help me, but, truth is, I didn’t even know him before my parents died. Living with a total stranger isn’t exactly a walk in the park. He’s set in his ways, a little rigid and obsessed with the order of things. If you just put a plate back in the wrong place, he goes ballistic.”
Leading me down another flight of stairs at the other end of the house, he smiled. “And this,” he said as he led me to the doors that led to the patio, “is his greatest pride.”
My breath caught high in my lungs, elated, mesmerized and amazed before finally seeping out in a dreamy sigh. Remnants of the sun’s evening rays turned the horizon into a fiery plain as crimson, orange and plum battled for superiority. The bay seemed to go on forever while the lullaby of wavelets could be heard licking the shore below.
“This view is unreal,” I murmured.
We roamed about the grounds, the sound of my heels tapping lightly on the cement path that brought us to the very edge of the water.
“This is my meditation,” he said, his soulful voice reaching deep inside of me, touching on pain I’d never experienced. “It’s where I come to find myself, to connect with… I don’t know. It would sound weird to say I connect with my parents, right.”
“Not at all,” I said taking his hand as we stood side by side.
The moment lingered, filling me with emotions that were foreign and odd. A calm I’d never known, peace and tranquility.
“I’ve got a treat for you if you want to find a way to kill the next two hours,” he offered at length.
“Lead the way.”
I followed him to a back entrance that led into an old, majestic theater.
“Wow, this is really cool.”
“Apparently one of the owners was a woman who was an old Hollywood actress. She’d made a dozen or so films, but never hit it really big. When she had this built, somewhere in the 1940s, neighbors complained and tried to get it stopped, but she was adamant. She wanted a place to view, in true Hollywood style, the films she’d made.”
Red velvet curtains, gold braiding and cushy seats were a real throw back. Art deco lighting, an intricately carved ceiling medallion and plush carpeting brought a touch of cozy elegance, while the old popcorn cart brought whimsy and the irresistible scent of popcorn to the décor.
“Be back in a sec,” Braxton said as he popped into the projection room.
I took a seat and seconds later Brax sat beside me with a huge tub of popcorn.
The screen lit up with a scratchy black and white introduction.
“I hope you like the classics. This is It’s a Wonderful Life, my all time favorite.”
Munching on popcorn and feeling cozy with Brax at my side, I allowed myself to become completely absorbed with the troubles of Jimmy Stewart’s character, George Bailey, so absorbed I choked up when his life began to spiral out of control.
As George entered his neighborhood bar to drown his sorrows, a chill ran down my spine and I shivered involuntarily.
“You okay?” Brax asked.
“Yeah, it’s probably just the effect of watching him out in all that snow.”
Nonetheless, Brax quickly shrugged his jacket off and draped it across my
shoulders. He moved closer to me, putting his arms around me.
Moments later, the shiver came again when George walked out of the bar and got into his car.
“Still the sight of snow?” Brax teased as he brought his arm around me. “I thought you Seattle transplants were used to the snow?”
“So did I.” I snuggled into the crook of his arm, eager to rid myself of the unpleasant chill.
“Better?”
“Much.”
He leaned in and kissed my cheeks, moving to my lips, his hot tongue searing mine as our mouths devoured each other. He tasted like popcorn, and I loved popcorn, licking him, tasting his mouth.
“Oh, Lux,” Brax groaned. “I want you closer, it’s so cold in here.” He turned and lifted me so I was sitting in his lap, my dress riding up until my panties were the only thin material covering my heated core against his tux’s pants. He kissed my exposed skin at the back of my neck and shoulders, sending all kinds of sensations through me. In the movie, George rode off, his driving erratic as he traveled over the snow-covered streets. When he hit a tree and came out cursing his run of bad luck, Brax shivered and his arm tightened around me as he sought refuge from the sudden chill. “Why is it so cold in here?”
“Seems you don’t like the snow either.”
His chuckle was dry, and his brow furrowed in annoyance. “Someone must have switched on the air conditioning. It’s starting to feel like a freezer in here.”
“I was beginning to think I was coming down with something, but it really is getting cold.”
“I’ll go check what’s going on. Be right back.”
He got up, leaving me colder and emptier, the room suddenly feeling dark and dank. I tried to concentrate on the movie, my chill matching that of George as he walked through the snow, came to a bridge and watched the swirl of freezing water below. He seemed so distraught, so unhappy, would he really jump to end it all?
I let out a small gasp as the water below splashed, my body reacting violently to the frigid plunge, but it wasn’t George who’d jumped, but someone else. As cries for help reached George on the bridge, he climbed over the railing and dove, now with the intent to save a life, not take one.